An Old Story Versified
By the Rev John Graham, A.M.
The careful Shepherd had a flock,
of thriving sheep his only stock,
Their pasture he with walls surrounded,
as wolves throughout the land abounded.
Great were his pains, his labor long,
To make the barrier high and strong;
yet often as he went to sleep,
the wolf broke in and slew the sheep,
at last he finds his work complete,
no entrance left but at the gate;
his flock protected and at peace,
began to flourish and increase;
till full of years, and honest pride,
at his success the Shepherd died.
A son succeeded, mild and kind,
of liberal and gentle mind,
who wished in deed to save the sheep,
and yet the wolves in humor keep,
Him the submissive brutes petition,
To pity their forlorn condition;
of their primal rites denuded,
and from the pasturage excluded.
They vowed, the they swore, their altered mind,
to sheep had long become so kind,
they would not put a tooth or foot on
the choicest, fattest leg of mutton.
Their ancestors they all confessed,
of harsher notions were possessed;
and often broke the shepherd’s wall,
and made the sheep in thousands fall;
spread death and desolation round,
and stained with blood the blushing ground.
But they, kind souls, had other kidneys,
as noble as Sir Philip Sidney’s.
Mild as Melanchthon they would keep,
and help to feed this flock of sheep.
The shepherd, fearing such a trial,
was resolute in his denial;
till by false friends extremely puzzled,
he let the wolves in strongly muzzled.
Pared from each foot was every claw,
and 20 straps bound up each jaw;
each wolf was forced an oath to pass,
he would eat nothing there but grass.
The Wall was leveled, and the meeting
twixt wolves and sheep was graced with greeting;
one would suppose through all the plain,
the golden age was come again.
Sheep joined with Wolf, hard names to call
the builders of leveled wall.
A few bold watchmen dared to cry,
against this frightful novelty,
and said it soon would come to pass,
that wolves would think all flesh is grass;
and in their plentitude of power,
the silly, feeble sheep devour.
These warnings all are given in vain,
within the fold the wolves remain.
The watchmen meet contempt and hate,
as borne 200 years to late,
vile bigots who for private ends,
would disunite the new made friends.
Meantime the claws which had been cut,
grew strong and sharp on every foot;
some of the straps are old and worn,
and others from the muzzle torn;
slender and few those that remain,
give tenfold discontent and pain;
till as a useless galling brand,
they’re all drawn off with gentle hand.
Then starts the Shepherd as from sleep;
resolved to save the trembling sheep;
suspicion shows, and late takes care,
new straps and muzzles to prepare;
but vain is all precaution now,
the grim Wolf knits his horrid brow;
the muzzle he rejects with scorn,
and on that melancholy morn,
destruction rages through the fold,
the sheep are slaughtered young and old;
in vain for help the shepherd cries,
amidst his butchered flock he dies,
and curses in his hapless fall,
the day he moved his father’s Wall.
Lifford, April 5th 1821
